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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29713608">Recovery</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/DancingInTheSliverGlow/pseuds/DancingInTheSliverGlow'>DancingInTheSliverGlow</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Febuwhump 2021 [26]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>MacGyver (TV 2016)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anger, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Tragedy, Angst with a Hopeful Ending, Angus MacGyver (MacGyver TV 2016) Whump, Bargaining, Bozer is a good friend, Break Up, Caring Riley Davis, Couch Cuddles, Crying, Cuddling &amp; Snuggling, Denial, Depression, Die Hard References, Dog Tags, Driving, Electrical Shock, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Epic Friendship, Episode Tag, Episode: s05e05 Jack + Kinematics + Safe Cracker + MgKNO3 + GTO, FebuWhump2021, Febuwhump, Fluff, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Funeral, Gen, Guilt, Hugs, Hurt Angus Macgyver (Macgyver 2016), Hurt/Comfort, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Insomnia, Isolation, Jack Dalton is Riley Davis' Parent, Jack's apartment, Literal Sleeping Together, Mac breaks up with Desi, Male-Female Friendship, Matty is a good friend, Men Crying, Movie Night, One Shot, Other, Panic Attacks, Platonic Cuddling, Poor Angus MacGyver (MacGyver TV 2016), Queerplatonic Relationships, Recovery, Russ tries, Scents &amp; Smells, Self-Denial, Self-Harm, Shock, Short One Shot, Team as Family, The Phoenix - Freeform, Tired Angus MacGyver (MacGyver TV 2016), Whump, loss of a partner, mild panic attack, movie marathon, riley davis whump, scent, worried riley davis</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 18:06:41</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,258</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29713608</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/DancingInTheSliverGlow/pseuds/DancingInTheSliverGlow</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Coda to 5x05. Mac and Riley go through the five stages of grief after Jack's death.</p><p>~~~</p><p>Mac can’t breathe. He knows what it is, but he doesn’t want to see it because seeing it will make it real and Mac can’t deal with the fact that Jack is -<br/>
The man opens his hands and Mac sees Jack’s dog tags.<br/>
His world crumbles to pieces.</p><p>~~~</p><p>He watches, numbly as Riley crumbles to pieces. He knows he should walk over there and comfort her but he’s frozen in the spot. He literally can’t move or do anything, because Riley-<br/>
Riley believes Jack is dead.</p><p>~~~</p><p>Jack is dead and Mac can’t do it. He can’t pretend the axis of this entire world is gone. He can’t show up at the Phoenix, where he spent so many years with Jack without hearing Jack in his mind every single second of every single day.</p><p>~~~</p><p>When Jack left there was a void, in is heart and job. Desi filled the job’s void, so Mac  thought she’d fill the void in his heart too. But the truth was, they could never work.<br/>
Mac knew that; but he kept trying because a puzzle piece that didn’t fit right was better than no puzzle piece.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Angus MacGyver &amp; Matilda "Matty" Webber (MacGyver TV 2016), Angus MacGyver &amp; Russ Taylor, Jack Dalton &amp; Angus MacGyver (MacGyver TV 2016), Jack Dalton (MacGyver TV 2016) &amp; Riley Davis, Jack Dalton/Angus MacGyver (MacGyver TV 2016), Riley Davis &amp; Angus MacGyver (MacGyver TV 2016), Wilt Bozer &amp; Angus MacGyver (MacGyver TV 2016)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Febuwhump 2021 [26]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2137995</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>febuwhump 2021</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Recovery</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>A huge shout-out and thank you to damdemiwitch who beta-ed this!!!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>~ Denial &amp; Isolation ~</em>
</p><p>Mac gets the phone call on Wednesday morning. The weather is overcast, and most of the team is feeling sluggish and under the weather. Thankfully, they don’t currently have a mission so it doesn’t affect their work performance.</p><p>Mac picks up the phone. The voice tells him Jack’s coming back but it’s all <em>wrong. </em>Jack is the best field operative he knows. There’s no way that he’s— that he was— </p><p>Mac can’t even finish the thought. The idea that Jack is— that Jack is <em>not here</em> is unimaginable. There must be some mistake. Jack can’t be <em>gone.</em></p><p>The world tilts out from under him and Mac feels numb, like he’s floating. Distantly he hears a voice asking if he’s okay. Mac hears the words, but he doesn’t understand them. What does <em>‘being okay,</em>’ even mean, when Jack is <em>not here</em>? </p><p>Mac hasn’t been <em>okay </em>since Jack left on the mission to catch Kovac one year, one month two weeks and five days ago. Since Jack walked out of his apartment saying that Mac couldn’t come with him because the decision was above his head, and that <em>he didn’t want Mac to come</em>.</p><p>“Mr. MacGyver, are you still here?” The voice on the phone finally gets through the fog in Mac’s brain. </p><p>Mac clears his throat. “I’m here. I’ll be there.” Mac hangs up and looks up. </p><p>The entire team is staring at him, concerned. </p><p>When did they get there? Mac could’ve sworn that they weren’t there a moment ago.</p><p>“Mac?” Bozer asks, sounding concerned.</p><p>Completely numb and unseeing, Mac relays the news: the event, the time, the place. </p><p>Mac blinks and Matty is holding his hand. Russ is standing near him, telling him that he’ll drive him. Desi, Bozer and Riley aren’t in sight.</p><p>When did they leave?</p><p>“Mac,” Matty asks, gently. “I can’t even begin to imagine how you’re feeling. But we need to go pick up—” Her voice cracks with emotion and she doesn’t continue.</p><p>Mac nods.</p><p>Mac blinks and the next thing he knows is that he’s dressed in his formal military uniform, saluting as the back of a plane opens. Men in uniform, men that <em>Mac doesn’t know</em> take the casket out of the plane and walk past Mac. </p><p>Mac eyes the casket. It’s the standard size, made to fit any deceased american soldier. It doesn’t mean anything. There’s no sign of <em>Jack </em>anywhere on it. Just the non descript American flag.</p><p>Distantly, Mac’s aware that he’s shaking. He’s shoulders tremble but not in the way shoulders do when one cries. It’s more of a shiver, like the one that happens when you’re stuck in a blizzard all alone freezing to death in the wind chill with <em>no shelter in sight—</em></p><p>The casket passes Mac. One of the men that <em>Mac doesn’t know </em>stops and reaches out to give Mac something.</p><p>Mac can’t breathe. He <em>knows </em>what it is, but he doesn’t want to see it because seeing it, feeling it will make it <em>real </em>and Mac can’t, he just can’t deal with the fact that Jack is— that Jack won’t ever—</p><p>The man opens his hands and Mac sees Jack’s dog tags. </p><p>His world crumbles to pieces. </p><p>… </p><p>The dog tags don’t mean anything. They mean <em>nothing</em>. They could have fallen off, or been taken off or forged or any number of deceptions. Just because Mac is holding dog tags with Jack’s name on him, it doesn’t mean that Jack is <em>gone. </em>It doesn’t. </p><p>…</p><p>The funeral party is at his house. Of course it is. Apparently, all of these soldiers and agents are Jack’s teammates, his peers, his coworkers. They all know him, but Mac <em>doesn’t know any of them. </em> Mac doesn’t know any of them, doesn’t know <em>anything </em>from the past year of Jack’s life— how is he suppose to find Jack when he has <em>nothing </em>to go off, <em>nothing </em>to work with, no intel—</p><p>He watches, numbly as Riley crumbles to pieces. He knows he should walk over there and talk to her, comfort her, hug her or <em>something</em>, <em>anything </em>but he’s frozen in the spot. He literally can’t move, can’t do anything, because— because Riley— </p><p>Riley believes Jack is dead. </p><p>~ <em>Anger ~</em> </p><p>Jack is dead, and Kovac is alive. </p><p>Kovac was on Jack’s team, <em>she should’ve had his back, </em>instead she was the one who killed him. </p><p>Jack is dead, and Kovac is alive. And it’s all Mac’s fault.</p><p>Jack had called him. Jack had called him <em>multiple times</em> and Mac had missed the calls and now Jack is dead. </p><p>Russ pours him a glass of alcohol—the static in Mac’s brain takes over when he says the name—and Mac swallows it all. The alcohol isn’t smooth, it burns on the way down, and Mac thinks that's good. He deserves the sting, he deserves the pain.</p><p>He let the most important person in his life down when they needed him, and now he’s dead. </p><p>The emotions inside him are too strong. Jack is dead and Mac wants to cry. This pain inside him— it's too strong. It swells up in his throat to the point where he can’t <em>breathe</em>, can’t <em>even think</em>. Mac can’t stand it. He wishes Jack was alive. He wishes he was there to take Jack’s place. He wishes he was dead with Jack. </p><p>It’s not fair. Nothing is fair. Jack is <em>good. </em>Jack is one of the very few people Mac <strike>has</strike> had left, and now he’s gone and it’s not fucking fair.</p><p>The moment he’s sure the rest of the team is asleep, Mac walks into the washroom. The moment he closes the door anger floods through his veins.</p><p>Jack is dead, its his fault, why didn’t he just pick up the stupid phone, it’s not <em>fucking fair. </em></p><p>Mac punches the counter. He punches it, again and again and again and again, until the pain in his hand begins to compare to the pain in his heart. </p><p>The counter is covered in spots of blood.</p><p>Jack is dead. Mac is alone.</p><p>Jack is dead.</p><p>Mac wasn’t there.</p><p>It’s too much. The pain that had been festering in Mac’s throat erupts and Mac shoves his other hand on his mouth as he screams. He crumbles, slides down the side of the counter as tears pour down his cheeks.</p><p>Jack is dead, and Mac can’t breathe.</p><p>He’s inhaling and exhaling but it doesn’t feel like any air is getting to his lungs. Jack is dead and Mac can’t do this anymore. He can’t go back to work and pretend like the axis of this entire world, his gravity is <em>gone. </em>He can’t show up at the Phoenix, where he spent so many years with Jack, and walk its hallways, complete its missions without <em>hearing Jack in his mind every single second of every single day for the rest of his life. </em></p><p>He just can’t do it.</p><p>Mac pulls the dog tags out of his pocket and clenches his fist around them, not flinching when the torn, bloody skin pulls painfully. He covers his mouth with his other hand and sobs.</p><p>He can’t do this.</p><p>~ <em>Bargaining ~</em></p><p>Russ is driving him home. Mac doesn’t know when this decision was made, but he’s not protesting. Mac doesn’t know if he could drive with the state he’s in — the bloodied fists, now wrapped in bandages, courtesy of Bozer.</p><p>Mac feels Russ glancing between him and the road. He doesn’t want to hear Russ’s speech — he doesn’t want to socialize right now. Mac stares out the window and <em>thinks. </em></p><p>The man—the agent who had handed Mac Jack’s dog tags—had said that there was nothing he could do. He had said that it was a hostage situation, Jack went in alone. It was an impossible situation. </p><p>But isn’t that Mac’s expertise? Finding a solution, a way when it seems impossible?</p><p>If only Mac had picked up the damn phone when Jack called, maybe he’d still be alive.</p><p>If only Mac had kept in contact with Jack, sent him messages even if he couldn’t—<em>wasn’t—</em>allowed to answer, maybe Jack would’ve contacted him about his suspicions of Kovac sooner, and he’d still be alive.</p><p>If only Mac had stood his ground, insisted that Jack take Mac with him a year ago and got Matty to pull some strings and gotten him onto the team, maybe Jack would still be alive. </p><p>If only Mac—</p><p>“It’s not your fault, Mac.” Russ interrupts Mac’s thoughts, his voice unusually gentle. “I know you wish you could’ve done something, I know you blame yourself. I know you think you could’ve done <em>something</em> and saved him. But hindsight is 20/20. You didn’t know, and it's not your fault. Okay?”</p><p>Mac doesn’t answer.</p><p>They spend the rest of the ride in silence.</p><p>
  <em>~ Depression ~</em>
</p><p>Mac stands in Jack’s apartment. Despite having been void of its resident for a year, two months, and four days, the place looks like Jack left yesterday. </p><p>There’s no dust on the walls. There’s cutlery and glasses in the sink. Beer in the refrigerator. Garbage in the trash can. Clothes in the laundry bin. The couch has a pillow and an unmade blanket covering it.</p><p>Mac hasn’t been to his house in the past week and a half. Okay — that not entirely true. Mac hasn’t slept in his own bed in a week and four days.</p><p>In his defence, he tried. He laid down and stared at his ceiling until he was drowning in pain and tears. He doesn’t know what possessed him that first night, but in the midst of the breakdown, he held himself together long enough to have driven to Jack’s apartment. </p><p>It had taken him way too long to pick the lock — he couldn’t get his hands to stop shaking. </p><p>Mac had collapsed onto Jack’s sofa, inhaled the familiar scent of his partner, and relaxed enough to fall asleep.</p><p>He tried sleeping in his own bed three more times, to no avail. Since the fourth night, Mac doesn’t even try anymore. </p><p>He just goes straight to Jack’s place.</p><p>… </p><p>Mac is tired. He’s always tired. There’s a weight pulling his limbs down, stopping them from moving and responding as fast. Mac tells his hands to work, his legs to walk,  and they don’t listen. Sometimes he gives up, and it’s only when someone asks him if he’s coming, or if he’s okay, that they decide to listen. </p><p>Mac is tired of people asking him if he’s okay. Jack is <em>gone</em>. <em>Nothing </em>is okay. But they don’t understand. Jack wasn’t their partner, not like he was <em>Mac’s </em>partner. They understand he’s grieving, he lost a friend. </p><p>What they don’t understand is that Mac lost a part of himself.</p><p>He doesn’t know how to tell them that without sounding insane. He knows they won’t understand, and Mac doesn’t have the energy — or the will — to <em>make </em>them understand.</p><p>Matty is the first one who sits him down and asks if he needs some time to process. She tells him to take a vacation, to take time to mourn. Mac has more than enough vacation days, and Matty has no problem allotting him more should he need it.</p><p>Mac doesn’t tell her that he was saving his vacation days to spend with Jack when he returned.</p><p>Instead he tells her, “No, I’m just tired.”</p><p>It’s not a lie. Coffee doesn’t work nearly as well as it used to. Energy drinks are useless. </p><p>Matty tells him to let her know if there’s anything she can do. Mac wants to laugh. There’s only one thing he wants, and it’s probably the one thing outside her considerable power. Still, he nods in agreement and she dismisses him, leaving him alone with his thoughts.</p><p>Most of the time, Mac just sits and wonders if he can just fall asleep and never wake up again. He doesn’t want to die—not really—but existing is <em>hard.</em> Jack is a gaping wound in his heart and he’s walking around losing blood and <em>no one notices that it's a fatal wound, not just a stinging cut.</em></p><p>A small voice in his head tells him that they do notice, they just can’t be bothered with his dramatic bleeding heart. Mac tells the voice to shut up, finds one of Jack’s favourite songs on his phone and turns up the volume loud enough that he can’t hear the voice anymore. </p><p>The next one to sit him down is Russ. He comes to Mac’s house, sits next to him on his couch, puts a hand on his shoulder, and tells him he can’t imagine how hard it is to lose two father figures so close together.</p><p>Mac wants to scream. Russ doesn’t understand anything. He doesn’t know anything. Mac tunes the rest of his words out; he doesn’t want to hear about <em>fathers</em> and <em>father figures. </em></p><p>Maybe Russ sees something in Mac’s eyes or body language and realizes that he isn’t getting to Mac, because not long after he gets up and leaves. Or maybe he stays for a while, Mac doesn’t know. He stopped paying attention a long time ago. The moment Russ pulls out of his driveway, Mac is in his car on the way to Jack’s apartment. He enters, closes the door behind him, and slides down as he screams into his sleeves. <em>Father figure. </em></p><p>The next to confront him is Desi. She tells him that he can’t do this to her anymore, she can’t take it. Mac wants to shake her. <em>She</em> can’t take it?</p><p>Mac looks at her, and realizes something he had known since the beginning of their relationship, but had never admitted to himself. When Jack had… gone the first time, there was a void, in both his heart and his job. Desi had filled the job, so Mac had thought she’d fill the void in his heart too. </p><p>But the truth was, they didn’t work. They never did. Mac knew that; but he kept trying anyway because a puzzle piece that didn’t fit right was better than no puzzle piece. </p><p>Mac looks at her and feels nothing. He breaks up with her on the spot and walks away. </p><p>Bozer is next. He hears about his break up with Desi, sits him down around the fire on their porch, gives him a beer, and says that he’s there if Mac wants to talk about it, or about Jack. He tells Mac that he’s worried about him, Mac is his best friend, and even though he doesn’t live with Mac anymore, he’s still there for him. Anytime. </p><p>Mac opens his mouth and tries to say <em>something, anything, </em>but nothing comes out. It’s like the words are stuck in his throat. Mac shapes the letters, but no sound comes out. He tries and tries, but it's like his mute button is on.</p><p>Mac gives up. </p><p>His body is betraying him, and Mac doesn’t have enough energy to fight it.</p><p>He forces a smile, thanks Bozer, and hugs him. He’s insanely glad that his body lets him hug Bozer. He hugs Bozer a little too tight, and stays there a little too long. Bozer doesn’t say anything, and Mac is grateful. When Bozer leaves, Mac despairs. </p><p>He can’t even talk to his best friend.</p><p>Riley is the last one. It happens after Mac makes a mistake while working on some project Matty assigned him in the lab; Mac knows that with his current <em>state</em> Matty doesn’t trust him in the field. It hurts, but Mac gets it. He doesn’t trust his body either. It doesn’t listen anymore, it doesn’t work <em>right. </em></p><p>Mac accidentally touches a live wire and gets shocked. He jerks back and falls on the floor, overwhelming pain flooding his hand. His head rings and he can’t hear anything for a few minutes.</p><p>When the ringing subsides, Sparky tells him that he called for assistance. Mac barely has time to be annoyed about the fact that his teammates are going to have another <em>talk</em> with him when Riley bursts into the lab, her eyes wide in panic and hair flying. </p><p>Her eyes are watery and Mac instantly feels guilty.</p><p>Riley doesn’t say much— she helps him up and gets him checked out with Medical. They tell him he’s lucky— there’s no permanent damage, just a few minor burns.</p><p>Mac wants to laugh. <em>He’s lucky?</em> The irony isn’t lost on him and he laughs, emptily. The medical agent eyes him, worried. Riley asks him to give them a moment. He leaves.</p><p>Riley paces the room before coming to stand in front of him.</p><p>“You can’t do this, Mac.” She says. </p><p>Internally Mac snorts, and his mind starts to fade. He’s heard this same speech over and over. <em>He can’t do this, takes some time off, come back when you’re feeling better. </em>What they don’t understand is that Mac will never be <em>better. </em>Jack died, and took a piece of Mac with him. </p><p>Riley grabs his chin and forces him to look at her. Mac’s mind snaps back to the present and notices details he hadn’t before.</p><p>Riley’s eyes are red. There’s small pools of unshed tears in them. Her eye bags are nearly purple— Mac wonders when she slept last. Has she even gotten a full night’s rest since Jack’s death? Her hand is cold—ice cold—that’s a sign of stress and anxiety. Her hand is shaking minutely. </p><p>Despite all that, there’s a steely strength in her gaze.</p><p>“You cannot do this to me, Mac. I...  I can’t lose you. Not you too. I know it hurts. I’m hurting too—And I know that this pain, what you’re feeling, what I’m feeling—it’s not going away. Not now, not in ten years, not ever. Jack—” Her voice breaks on his name. She drops her hand from Mac’s chin. “Jack was family. Jack is family. The others didn’t know him — not like we did. They don’t understand. I know it's tough, but don’t shut me out. Don’t do this — Jack wouldn’t want you to do this. He wouldn’t want you to <em>give up.</em>”</p><p>It’s not a eureka moment. The pain, the tiredness, the emptiness that’s plaguing him and smothering him like a blanket doesn’t instantly leave like a fairytale.</p><p>No. It feels like there’s someone else there with him, under the blanket. He’s not alone — Riley understands. </p><p>Mac pulls her close, gently — giving her the option to resist. She goes willingly, and hugs him. They cling to each other, both desperately missing the same piece of their hearts and finding comfort in the other. </p><p>When Mac finally speaks, his voice is rough, as if he hasn’t used it in a few days. Which might be true — but Mac doesn’t remember. The past week has been a blur. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Riley. I won’t— I’ll try. I promise.”</p><p>Riley nods into his shoulder. They both stay like that, holding each other like the other is the only lifeline preventing them from drowning in the ocean. In a way, they are.</p><p>When they eventually pull away, Mac doesn’t acknowledge the small wet spots on his shirt and Riley doesn’t acknowledge the ones on hers. Riley steps back and moves as if she’s going back to work but Mac takes her arm and stops her.</p><p>They leave the Phoenix together. Matty tells them to take as long as they need. She looks relieved, and almost happy that Mac and Riley are taking time off. Distantly, he feels bad for her. Seeing him and Riley spiraling and being unable to do anything can’t be easy. </p><p>Mac drives them to Jack’s apartment. Riley stands at the foot of the door, frozen. Mac goes to pull her in, and stops himself. This is something that Riley needs to do— if she can. He won’t force her. After what feels like ages, Riley steps into Jack’s apartment, her jaw faintly trembling and head held defiantly up. Even now, while vulnerable and hurting, she’s strong, and Mac loves her. </p><p>Mac pulls out Jack’s <em>Die Hard</em> movie DVD, and holds it up questioningly. “Die Hard marathon?”</p><p>Riley manages a wet laugh. “Sure.”</p><p>As Mac puts the DVD in and clears the couch of his—Jack’s—pillow and blanket. Mac can feel Riley’s eyes on him. </p><p>Eventually she asks, “You’ve been sleeping here?”</p><p>“Yeah.” Mac shrugs. “I can’t sleep at home — so I came here. It—it still smells like him?” With anyone else, Mac would be worried about it sounding weird. While Riley, he <em>knows </em>that she’ll understand.</p><p>She does. She nods and disappears into Jack’s room. Mac doesn’t ask. He gets the movie ready and waits on the couch. A few minutes later, Riley appears wearing one of Jack’s sweaters. It’s big on her, but she looks comfy and peaceful in a way she hasn’t been in awhile. She sits down next to Mac, and he starts the movie.</p><p>Slowly, Mac recalls a joke that Jack used to make when a particular character shows up. Riley manages a smile. Riley mimics Jack’s mime of other characters in his voice, and Mac snorts in amusement. </p><p>The dark void in him is still there, but it’s easier to bear with someone else.</p><p>Eventually after the third movie, they settle down. Riley leans on Mac, and with her permission he wraps an arm around her. Just before she goes to sleep, she asks if they could make this a weekly thing, and Mac agrees.</p><p>They fall asleep on Jack’s couch together, watching his favourite movie, surrounded by the last remnants of his presence. </p><p>~ <em>Acceptance ~</em></p><p>A few months later, on one of their weekly Jack-themed movie nights, Mac summons the courage and  pauses the movie mid-scene. </p><p>Sitting next to him on the couch, Riley turns to him, popcorn in hand and eyebrow raised in question. She must see the turmoil in his eyes because she sets the popcorn down and turns to him. “Mac…” </p><p>Mac reaches under his shirt and pulls out the dog tags. At the sight, Mac can hear Riley’s breath hitch. Mac reaches into his pocket and pulls out the extra metal cord. He takes one tag off, strings it onto the metal cord and hands it to Riley.</p><p>There are tears pooling in Riley’s eyes. She raises her hand and touches the tag, reverently. Her hand is shaking, but they both pretend that it isn’t. </p><p>“Mac, are you sure?” Her voice wobbles with grief, hope and gratefulness alike.</p><p>Mac nods. “You deserve to have them too, Riley. I know— I saw how much you meant to him. And how much he means to you.” They both ignore the shakiness of his voice, and the pools in his eyes mirroring Riley’s.</p><p>She carefully takes the cord and hangs it around her neck. Mac puts his tag back on his neck. It hangs above his heart, right where it belongs. </p><p><em>“Thank you.” </em>Riley whispers. She sounds like Mac just gave her the world, which considering, he did. In a way. “I saw how much he meant to you too, with your codependency issues—”</p><p>They both crack a short laugh, remembering the diner where Mac had asked Riley to pretend to be Jack to help him think of a solution to avoid the bad guys.</p><p> </p><p>“He was your best friend.” Riley takes Mac’s hand and squeezes it.</p><p>Mac squeezes her hand, and glances away. “Jack wasn’t <em>just </em>my best friend, Riley,” he says, his voice rough with emotion.</p><p>He glances back at Riley and sees her eyes widen in misunderstanding and shakes his head no.</p><p>“No, I wasn’t <em>in love </em>with him. He— it wasn't the same, with him. Bozer is my best friend. What I have—had—with Jack was different.” Mac struggles to find the right word. “We were <em>partners</em>.”</p><p>That word isn’t <em>right</em> either. Mac knows what he feels for Jack — and yes, feels, because these feelings won’t ever go away — and he knows what they shared, but he doesn’t know in any word in the english language that summarizes how much Jack was to him. How much they were, together.</p><p>Riley nods slowly. “I think I get it.” Somehow, Mac can tell by her tone that she really does. </p><p>If anyone would understand, it would be Riley.</p><p>Some of the tension eases from his shoulders. Riley pulls him into a hug. Jack’s dog tags hanging from around their neck <em>clink </em>together against their chests. Mac can tell that they’re both minutely shaking, but the hug is tight, comforting and just what he— what they both need. Riley’s chin rests on Mac’s shoulder, and he leans the side of his head against hers. </p><p>“He’s not gone. Not really.” Riley whispers, her voice raw. “He’s still with us. We have each other. It’s enough.”</p><p>Mac can tell that she doesn’t mean the last sentence, and he’s pretty sure that she knows he doesn’t think so either. But they don’t have any other choice. </p><p>Nonetheless, a wordless understanding passes between them. They will never take the dog tags off. Not on the pain of death. Jack will stay with them, in their memories, in their quiet moments when they sit and remember, in their loud moments when they argue about some trivial point in one of Jack’s movies, in the field where bullets start firing in all directions and they’re inches from death, in the dog tags. </p><p>Jack will stay with them. </p><p>The grief, the loss will never fully go away. </p><p>But Jack will <em>always </em>be there.</p><p>Mac whispers back. “It’s enough. It has to be.”</p><p>The End.</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Mac, buddy, the word you're looking for is queerplatonic. Anywho... I hope everyone's staying safe and healthy during these troubling times.<br/>Come say hi on <a href="https://art-in-the-sunlight.tumblr.com">my tumblr :)</a><br/>If you enjoyed, consider leaving a kudos and comment?<br/><br/>Emoji Key for those who don't know what to say!<br/>❤ = you wish you could kudos again<br/>👍 = you enjoyed reading it<br/>😭 = how dare you hurt me like this *wipes tear away*<br/>💕 = F*** 5x05! We didn't see a body, so Jack is still alive! *walks away in denial*<br/> </p></blockquote></div></div>
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